


Sandwich

by MidnightGardener



Series: The Riga Safe House [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Airborne garlic, Andy’s done, Immortal Husbands, Joe is the snack, M/M, Nicky’s just horny... but he won’t concede, Nile’s confused, Pre-Dinner Snacks, Sandwich of terror, Sniper Nicky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26442523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightGardener/pseuds/MidnightGardener
Summary: Joe wants a pre-dinner snack, but Nicky’s not having any of it.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The Riga Safe House [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962133
Comments: 35
Kudos: 275





	Sandwich

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little gift from me, for the All & More Discord server.  
> 
> 
> This came together during a couple of late nights, while very tired and probably drunk. It is completely un-beta’ed.  
> 
> 
> I make no apologies.

Joe knows that he really shouldn’t be entering Nicky’s inner sanctum. 

And it’s not a filthy euphemism, he literally means Nicky’s physical sacred space.

He really shouldn’t, and he knows it will incur ire and reap him the wrath of his beautiful Italian. There will be yelling and possibly even a projectile thrown. Joe thinks it is completely worth it though as a bit of sport, especially as he knows the make-up sex afterwards will be especially tremendous.

It always is. 

Plus, he just loves seeing his Nicolo flustered both in the kitchen and in the bedroom afterwards. And of course, he will apologise profusely after all this is over.

Currently Joe is sitting at the small kitchen table in their safe house, in Riga. They’ve recently completed a mission in neighbouring Lithuania, and after weeks of terrible freeze dried meals and protein bars they are all looking forward to some of Nicky’s homemade polenta taragna ai porcini. He’s sourced the freshest mushrooms at the local market, and grabbed a wheel of taleggio for them to eat afterwards on slabs of fresh bread that he has also toted home.

Nothing makes Nicky happier than cooking for his family. He’s humming and singing softly to himself as he chops, and measures, and rummages around in the kitchen cupboards for utensils.

And nothing makes Joe happier than seeing Nicky so content.

But he does like to tease him so… it’s a compulsion. An itch he just has to scratch.

So that’s why Joe puts down his charcoal pencil, and sketch book where he’s been sketching out Nicky working in the kitchen. 

He turns to Nile who is sitting across from him, poring over an old art history book that was part of one of the precarious stacks in the living room.

“Psst, Nile!” Joe taps his finger on the worn timber table top to get her attention.

Nile who has been twirling a braid between her fingers, looks up suddenly.

“Watch this…” Joe whispers conspiratorially.

Nile frowns, a little confused, but watches carefully as Joe suddenly pushes his seat back and stands up.

Joe rubs his stomach dramatically and announces, “Nicolo! Habibi!  _ Ho fame!! _ Please, how much longer?”

Nicky looks up from chopping the porcini mushrooms, “Yusuf! Honestly, your manners! Dinner will not be long.”

“But Nicolo…” Joe implores, wrinkling his brow and tilting his head to one side.

“UH!” Nicky points a mushroom at Joe (never the knife, he has never pointed a blade at Joe since the very last time he killed him during the Crusades). “Enough. You can wait! You don’t see Nile bothering me while cooking. Honestly, sometimes you are like a child.”

Joe pouts, a little too dramatically.

Nicky holds his gaze a beat longer, then returns to his chopping.

Joe pushes his chair back and steals over to the kitchen island bench, where the taleggio is sitting temptingly. Its rind is perfectly untouched and whole. Joe leans forward over the bench, his elbows either side of the cheese wheel and chin resting in his hands. He knows Nicky is giving him side-eye, without moving his eyes from the task at hand over the chopping board.

Dropping his right hand on the counter, Joe’s finger skirts the edge of the cheeseboard running dangerously close to the cheese rind.

“Joe…” Nicky’s voice is low and warning.

Joe huffs dramatically and withdraws his hand. His eyes wander over the bench top until they spy the loaf of sourdough rye that Nicky is yet to slice so that it doesn’t dry out before dinner is ready. Beside it on the breadboard, is the serrated bread knife. Both are just out of Joe’s reach from where he’s leaning. Next to it are the plates, cutlery and water glasses that Nicky has put out ready to set the table with.

Slowly, carefully, Joe sidles along the edge of the bench. Always keeping his eye on Nicky, who in turn is keeping an eye on Joe yet never turning his head.

Nile is watching on, eyes narrowed slightly as she tries to work out what exactly Joe is up to. Andy has sauntered into the pokey dining area now, and pulled out a chair to sit down. Setting her half-full wine glass down, she pulls one knee up to her chest, balances her heel on the edge of the seat, and rests her forearm over her knee

“Oh… we’re playing this game,” she mutters quietly and rolls her eyes.

There’s a satisfying sizzle, as Nicky adds the porcini to the melted butter in the frying pan as well as a couple of cloves of crushed garlic. The aroma that is released is intense, and Joe lets out a small moan of appreciation, but also to elicit a further response from Nicky.

Barely flinching while stirring the mushrooms in the buttery-garlic sauce, there is the tiniest perceptible flicker of Nicky’s eye as he glances sideways for a split-second. Joe notices it… he also notices Nicky standing just that little bit straighter.

A small upturn of one corner of his mouth, and Joe has the mildest of smirks that he tries to chase away quickly. He grabs one of the glasses, and takes his chances stepping around the other side of the bench towards the sink. 

Nicky whips his head around, and catches Joe with a steely glare.

Joe holds his glass up in the air in protest, “ _ Un sorso d’acqua! _ ”

Again, Nicky tracks him with his sniper’s eye as Joe slowly, carefully reaches to turn the kitchen tap on and fill his glass. He holds Nicky’s gaze as he downs his drink in one. It’s intense and intimate, that unspoken connection of more than 900 years fills the kitchen with a special kind of tension. 

Once Joe has finished his drink, he raises his glass and his eyebrows as if to say, ‘See! Just a drink!’ 

He backs away from the sink, towards the bench again before placing his glass down. He leans on the edge of the benchtop, hand casually splayed on the chipped formica near the breadboard

Nicky’s gives a wry smile, before returning to his pan of mushrooms. He’s standing even straighter now, and his movements are minimal.    
He’s waiting.

Nile is looking entirely confused, and turns to Andy with a questioning look on her face.

Andy is taking a long swallow of her wine, and shrugs with a smirk on her face.

There is a minute of inactivity, as Joe stands watching Nicky from behind. Transfixed by his movements as he turns off the burner under the pan, and turns his attention to the now boiling pot of water adjacent to it. It’s as he picks up the bowl of combined polenta and buckwheat flour in one hand, and the whisk in the other, that Joe finally springs in action. He’s chosen this moment as he knows that once Nicky starts pouring the contents of the bowl into the pot and starts whisking, he will be unable to leave his post lest he spoil dinner.

Quick as lightning, Joe grabs the bread knife and saws through the bread like a man possessed.

“JOE!! NO!!” Nicky bellows suddenly, making Nile jump in her seat. She’s so unused to this quiet man, raising his voice especially with no warning.

Goddamn sourdough bread, always so dense and difficult to get through when one is a hurry! Joe ends up tearing the last couple of centimetres from the base of the loaf in his haste to grab his slice.

“JOE!!” Nicky repeats, clearly frustrated and torn between ruining their meal and saving his now desecrated rye loaf from his knife wielding, bread marauding lover.

Finally able to wrench the slice free of the loaf, Joe turns his attention to the cheese wheel. He unashamedly plunges the cheese knife into the soft rind, and hacks into it until he has been able to prise free a wedge. The taleggio is at room temperature, so it oozes temptingly, releasing the earthy ripe aroma as Joe hastily smooshes the slice onto the bread.

“JOE!!” Nicky is starting to sound like a broken record. “NOT THE CHEESE!! ARGH! STRONZINO!”

With a shit-eating grin on his face, Joe greedily stuffs his face full of bread and the delectable cheese. He knows that he’s going to have his work cut out for him in the bedroom this evening, but that is part of the fun. He also knows that no matter what, Nicky still loves and adores him despite what insults he may throw at him. Unfortunately for Joe, it’s not only insults that Nicky is into throwing this evening.

Andy snorts red wine out of her nose, as an entire bulb of garlic sails through the air and hits Joe squarely between the eyes.

Nicky, ever the perfect sniper shot. Even when he’s continuously whisking a large pan of polenta.

“OW! NICOLO!  _ Perchè lo hai fatto _ ??” Joe pouts with his best put upon face, rubbing the spot between his brows with one hand, while still shovelling his ill-gotten gains into his mouth with the other. 

Cheese is threatening to catch in his beard and Joe is darting his tongue out to capture it. Despite Nicky’s hard stare Joe can see him lick his lips and drop the gaze to his mouth. Joe decides to make matters worse by very slowly running his tongue over his bottom lip. He can see Nicky swallowing hard, and he stops stirring the pot momentarily.

Joe smacks his lips together, and smiles again once more.

Nicky seems to suddenly snap out of his sensual reverie, and starts whisking the polenta again with great fervour.

“ESCI! Get out of my kitchen!” 

Following with a string of rapid-fire Italian insults and threats, Nicky goes to grab a rolling pin out of the utensil pot.

Joe takes the final hint and finally runs out of the room, chuckling all the way. He’s gotten his rise out of Nicky, and more. He knows it’s all he’ll be able to do to wait until after dinner, and if Nicky’s reaction was anything to go by they’ll be relying on Andy and Nile to do the post-dinner clean up.

Nicky turns back to the pot, still muttering to himself as he keeps stirring with one hand and roughly grabs the plate of cubed fontina cheese and cold butter with the other.

Andy is laughing into her wine again, and Nile is still looking highly confused.

“I don’t get it. Why would Joe do that?”

Andy drains the last dregs from her wine glass in one large gulp, before setting it back onto the table top perhaps a little too loudly. She pushes her chair back, and gets up before briefly leaning down to quietly murmur in Nile’s ear, “I suggest you sleep on the couch tonight.”

Nile frowns down at the art book, still open on the table. “The couch?”

***

Joe and Nicky don’t even make it through dinner that evening.

And Nile opts to sleeps on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> My Italian is rusty, so apologies if I translate any of these wrong:  
>    
> Ho fame = I’m hungry
> 
> Un sorso d’acqua = A drink / sip of water
> 
> Stronzino = asshole (my favourite... hehehe)
> 
> Perche lo hai fatto = essentially, why did you do that?
> 
> Polenta taragna ai porcini is polenta and buckwheat flour, with fontina cheese and porcini mushrooms. It’s a northern Italian dish, most likely originating from around Genoa. (It’s also insanely delicious!)


End file.
